by Amanda Tru
Two seconds later, the phone beeped again.
BETTY HARRIMAN: emma, would u be available to teach the preschool class on wednesday nights in december? we are short-handed and really need the help!
Emma sucked in a breath, realizing the phone was now popping notifications of all the messages she should have received over the weekend after her phone had been stolen. Remembering Leo, she whirled back only to find his office door securely closed and the blinds drawn.
“Emma, I just saw your mom waiting out front. Is she giving you a ride home?” Kate asked cheerfully from near her elbow.
“Yes, thank you. I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Emma said, feeling completely numb.
“And, Emma, everything is set up. I’ll see you on Friday night for the party,” Kate smiled. “The dress is as fancy as you want to be. Some women will be wearing formal dresses, though I think a few of the men will protest if they have to wear suits.”
Emma nodded woodenly, doubting that Kate was accurate, but not wanting to say so. There was no way Leo would want to take her to the party now, and she didn’t think she would want to go either.
Simply wanting to leave, Emma hurried to the exit. With her hand on the door to the exterior office, she heard her name called.
Turning around, she saw Leo in the doorway to his office once again.
Speaking so that she’d be sure to hear, along with everyone else in the office, he called, “Emma, I’ll pick you up at 5:30 on Friday for the party.”
Emma tied the last ribbon and looked at the finished ornament with blurry eyes. It was 2:00 in the morning. Her parents thought she’d gone to bed hours ago and would protest if they knew she was still awake working, especially if they knew she was working on the ornaments for the church.
Emma had received the text from Miriam Yancy three days ago, and she had yet to show it to her mom. Instead, Emma frantically worked to both fulfill her orders and the church’s demands. This was not the first night she’d stayed up so late working, but she was so close to the number she needed to deliver to the church, she didn’t want to stop now.
She also knew that if she showed her mom the text, Cindy would likely become very angry and tell Miriam Yancy a few things she would soon regret. No, this was Emma’s business, and Miriam was right in that Emma had promised to donate ornaments for the church’s tree. It was Emma’s responsibility to fulfill that promise, no matter what it cost her personally.
The church grapevine had apparently not yet spread the news of the theft and attack, or maybe it had, and Miriam just didn’t care. Emma knew both her mom and the police had contacted the church already. Her mom asked for prayer, and the police asked for any video surveillance. From Miriam’s response and the lack of progress on the case, Emma thought neither contact had likely been effective.
Thinking of the police, Emma glanced at her phone, even though she knew the screen would show no text from Leo. He said he’d text her if he had any information, but Emma really thought he’d probably only said that to get her to stop calling for updates. She’d called at least once a day since Monday when she’d taken in the pictures. She would have been satisfied if Officer Kirk simply provided updates without bothering Leo, but whoever answered the phone at the station always forwarded her call directly to the police chief.
And Leo hadn’t taken kindly to her calls, or “interruptions,” as he called them.
Emma sighed wearily and turned the power on her laptop. She needed to check her email before she went to bed. She and Woong had exchanged emails several times within the last few days. She had answered questions on how old she was and the fact that she was a ‘Miss’ and not a “Mrs.” She’d also asked how his parents had met. She hoped that once Woong told that story, they would get a clear idea of a special ornament for his mom. Emma liked the boy and enjoyed conversing with him, but even if he never told her the story of how his parents met, she hoped he soon decided what ornament he wanted her to make.
Emma pulled up her email and found another message waiting from Woong. She quickly scanned it, but finding no ornament instructions, she worriedly glanced at the calendar on the wall. She wanted the ornament made and shipped well before the shipping deadline for Christmas.
Somehow this ornament had come to symbolize something more than just another custom order. When she finished, she’d be done. It was the last custom order she had committed to and marked the end of her responsibilities. Just a few more weeks and she could officially close the “Little Star Boutique.”
She felt so weary that closing seemed to be the wisest option. Even though her intention had always been to make the ornaments for God, she couldn’t help but think God must have something else planned. With everything that happened, shutting down her business must be what God wanted her to do. It was just too hard. This type of business was likely easy for someone without Emma’s challenges, but Emma had anxiety over everything. The angle of a ribbon holding a little silver bell on an ornament shouldn’t cause so much anxiety and be so time-consuming, but to Emma, it mattered.
With little things so difficult, when big things came like stolen cars, missing ornaments needing replacing, and criticism on all sides, maintaining such a business didn’t seem possible.
Her strong resolve in Leo’s office had quickly faded when he was no longer pushing her to defend her faith. Discouragement crept back in, leading her to conclude that it didn’t matter if she viewed this as her ministry; no one else did.
The past few days proved that to her. Now the church wanted her to take more responsibility as a children’s teacher for Wednesday nights, and she should do that, right? Emma really believed that, despite her noble intentions, this all must be God’s way of telling her to give up on Little Star and focus her efforts on smaller areas that more suited her challenges. Some people were made for dreams and big things, but that obviously was not God’s plan for Emma.
However, if all of that was true, why did Emma’s heart ache so much at the thought that Woong’s ornament was her swan song?
Emma swallowed, trying to push the unease aside and focus on rereading Woong’s words. Maybe the email could trigger an idea she could suggest to him. With that goal in mind, Emma quickly wrote an email, being careful to answer the curious boy’s questions but also asking if Woong’s mom enjoyed any hobbies. As an example, Emma explained how her store, Little Star Boutique, got its name because she loves the stars and astronomy. Since she is a Christian, “Little star” also reminded her of the Christmas star that led the wise men to Jesus. Emma remembered that Woong already mentioned the wise men in one of his previous messages and how they probably didn’t arrive when Jesus was a baby, as depicted in the traditional manger scene. Maybe something with wise men or a hobby like astronomy might work as the basis for an ornament.
Emma sent off the email, too tired to reread it. With one last look at the ornaments drying on her work table, Emma turned out the light. Orion picked himself off the floor where he’d been snoring at Emma’s feet and staggered down the hall after her.
With teeth brushed and pajamas on, Emma finally slid under the covers that already held Orion positioned at the foot of the bed. Thoughts of Woong, her Wednesday night children’s class, her ornaments, and even her persistent headache soon faded away. The last thought trailing through her mind was of Leo.
Friday waited only two days away. That was still quite a while.
If Emma called Leo just once tomorrow, would that make him really mad? She wouldn’t call more than that. Just once shouldn’t matter, right?
She could find out if there had been any progress on the case. She also wanted to find out if he was too mad to take her to the party.
Just one call.
Then the party.
“Emma, you look beautiful.”
Leo’s words sent a thrill of pleasure from the top of Emma’s upswept curls to the tips of her silver flats. She couldn’t make herself meet his gaze and even try to figure out if he was sinc
ere. Neither option promised good returns. Either he wasn’t sincere, and Emma would feel humiliated and like she didn’t belong at the party, or he was sincere, and she would feel so self-conscious and embarrassed that she wouldn’t know how to interact with him the rest of the evening.
Emma thought about spouting off the story of how her mom had taken her dress shopping yesterday, much to her mom’s delight. Emma had tried on no less than twenty-five dresses and refused every one of them, much to her mom’s aggravation. Emma came to believe that a requirement for a formal gown must be that it was itchy, scratchy, tight, or just generally uncomfortable, and she knew she couldn’t tolerate an evening in any one of them. Also, the bright colors of many dresses made them simply unacceptable.
Finally, the very patient salesperson found her a soft, elegant, green velvet gown that fit Emma perfectly. Emma loved how the light bounced off the fabric and thought it the most mesmerizing material she’d seen.
However, she knew Leo wouldn’t be interested in any of those details and opted for a simple, “Thank you,” while keeping her eyes focused on that mesmerizing green skirt.
Leo had arrived to pick Emma up promptly at 5:30 and patiently allowed Emma’s mom to titter around taking pictures as if they were headed to their high school prom.
Conversation in the car had been nonexistent save for a few comments on the weather, and Emma was astute enough to feel the awkwardness of it all and anxious enough to think it all her fault.
Now they had arrived at the party and stood near the entryway, trying to figure out what to do and where to go. Couples already mingled with each other, all smiling and conversing as if it was the easiest thing in the world. And Emma couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands.
She tried to tuck them in her pockets, pockets being the other reason she loved her dress, but thought that probably looked ridiculous. She tucked them behind her, but that was quite an awkward position in which to attempt to tap them together. Finally, she clasped them around front, tapping quickly and slightly, hoping no one would notice.
Leo was silent.
“I’m sorry I called so much this week.” Emma blurted. If she apologized, maybe Leo wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable.
Emma bravely lifted her gaze enough to see a hint of a smile on his mouth. “That’s okay, Emma. By the end of the week, I would have missed you if you hadn’t called. I started taking my breaks when you called just so I could speak with you.”
“You did that for me?” Emma asked, surprised. “I wondered why you weren’t nearly so mean on Thursday and Friday when I called.”
“And I was disappointed when you only called once today,” Leo said. “I could have used another break. I’m just sorry I never had any progress to report. We don’t have any leads on who stole those cars or your ornaments. The case is at a dead end.”
“Leo, you’re here!” Kate greeted, hurrying up to them. “Follow me! Now we can get started.”
Leo took Emma’s arm lightly, and they trailed behind Kate to the center of the large community center room.
Emma nervously looked around at the beautifully decorated tables along the sides, and the garlands draped along the balcony that encircled three-quarters of the room. Couples in a rainbow of colors, sparkles, and blinding sequins clustered in small groups that created an amazing amount of noise.
Emma’s instinct was to duck, cover her head, and shut her eyes so the noise and swirling colors stopped. Instead, she stood stiffly at Leo’s side and attempted a smile, or at least a look that didn’t resemble utter misery.
A microphone appeared in Kate’s hand. “Merry Christmas, everyone! We are going to get the evening started! Our police chief is here, and he and his date are going to get the dancing started this evening. That way, we’ll get through that awkwardness of someone needing to be the first to dance. The buffet is almost ready, and we’ll eat. Then we’ll have the gift exchange and more dancing to cap the evening off.”
At the mention of dancing and “Leo’s date,” Emma began inching her way to the side of the room. She wasn’t actually Leo’s date. Kate had just assigned her to him to fill a needed position. They surely wouldn’t expect her to dance, especially not in front of everyone.
The music started, and Kate quickly vacated the floor with a speed Emma admired.
Leo turned to her.
Emma looked around frantically, trying to find someone she could point to and nominate to fill the role of Leo’s date. Unfortunately, she was the only one in a ten-foot radius, and Leo’s eyes declared the role as hers.
Emma looked at him with all the excuses she could think of wordlessly flashing through the panicked flickers of her eyes. I can’t. I don’t know how to dance. I have a headache. I need to use the restroom. My feet don’t work right. I’m going to pass out. I’m allergic to dancing.
Her mouth opened and closed, and though she couldn’t manage to get out a single one of her excuses, Leo somehow understood and looked at her with understanding.
Leaning close, he whispered in her ear. “Thirty seconds, Emma. Close your eyes for thirty seconds, and it will all be over. I’ve got you.”
Panic-stricken, Emma obeyed and closed her eyes, but with nothing to see, all her other senses immediately became even more sensitive on high alert status.
A large hand curled around her small one, and another one came around the small of her back, pulling her close but not too close. Leo swayed from one foot to the other, and Emma attempted to sway with him. Though Emma recognized the song from the radio, it was neither fast nor slow, and Emma had no idea of the speed or rhythm with which she needed to sway.
The instant she felt his foot under hers, her eyes flipped open.
“I’m sorry!” she gasped.
Two seconds later, she stepped on his other foot.
Colors and lights swirled around her. She no longer heard music, but all the sounds melted into a roar.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 5… 4… 3—
There was nowhere for her fingers to tap.
Leo’s hand held hers firmly up high, and the other hand kept position at its post around Leo’s back. It was a position that unfortunately also allowed her to feel the strong muscles moving as he swayed.
Every sensation was too much. The colors and lights, the sound, the feel of Leo’s warmth and strength where her hands touched him, the pressure of his foot under hers yet again. Perhaps worst of all was the unnerving sensation that she was being watched with every mistake and short breath analyzed by disapproving eyes.
She needed to tap.
If she couldn’t tap, the wave would overwhelm her in 1… 2…
“Emma, is Pluto the ninth planet in the solar system or not?”
Emma’s eyes popped open at Leo’s urgent question.
“Well, Pluto is actually considered a dwarf planet,” Emma immediately responded. “It fits two out of three of the criteria for being a planet, but since it is part of the Kuiper Belt and does not clear its orbit, then it isn’t technically considered a planet. The funny thing is that knocking Pluto’s planet status makes some people really upset because it changes our traditional nine planet view of the solar system. Even scientists still debate whether it should be termed a planet. However, if Pluto were classified as a regular planet, other dwarf planets would qualify for planetary status as well. For instance, Eris and Ceres are also dwarf planets in the Kuiper Belt. Pluto is only about the size of half of the United States, and Pluto’s moon, Charon is so large in comparison that the two together are often referred to as a double planet. Even though Pluto isn’t technically an official planet, it might be my favorite just because it’s so very different. It has a very strange orbit, and did you know that the snow on Pluto is red?”
“Alright, everyone!” Kate announced into the microphone. “Don’t let Chief Jacobs and Emma feel lonely! Come join them on the dance floor!”
Soon other dancers swung around beside them, and Emma lost the sensation of being watched.
>
“We did it, Emma!” Leo said as he mercifully swung her to the side of the room as soon as their exit could go unnoticed. “The task of the first dance is completed.”
“You did that on purpose,” Emma realized with sudden insight. “You distracted me with an astronomy question to keep me from panicking.”
Leo shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Emma nodded, feeling thankful and yet slightly bothered that she made for such an easy mark to manipulate. Then again, she hated that someone would have the need to manipulate her in such a way to keep her from losing it.
Still, it was thoughtful for him to try to keep her calm, and he knew enough about her to use a method that worked.
“Thank you,” she said, hoping he also read the apology in her tone. He should have brought a date he didn’t need to rescue from herself.
Leo drew her around a few tables and into a corner of the room where shadows lengthened. “Emma, I know this isn’t easy for you. I appreciate that you came, but we don’t need to stay. Parties aren’t really your thing, and I understand that.”
Emma swallowed. Did he want her to go? How could she make him understand that she desperately wanted to be here? She wanted to have fun and socialize and be like all the smiling other faces in the room. She wanted to belong. She wanted to be normal.
“Crowds are difficult for me, as are the music and all the lights and colors,” Emma explained honestly. “But I don’t want to go. I’ve never been to a Christmas party like this before. I want to enjoy it. I just wish I didn’t get in my own way. If I’m not too much trouble, I’d still like to stay and try.”
“Emma, you’re not any trouble at all. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Emma struggled to explain feelings even she didn’t understand. “Being uncomfortable doesn’t mean I want to escape. Well, a large part of me does want to escape, but another part of me wants to want to be here. I know that doesn’t make sense to you at all, but it’s like always trying to balance polar opposite desires for every interaction I ever have. I’m just not sure how to do it.”